Witch’s Concubine (9 page)

“Why do you aid my father? He killed your kind, slaughtered them all like sheep for a sacrifice.” Dmitri shoved against the shield manacles locking him into place. “I will kill you for this.”

“You will comply, or she dies.” Zivon drew a dagger and held it against her throat. “What’s it to be, Prince?”

Growls resonated within Dmitri and Alonzo. The sentry guards chuckled their amusement and shoved the two men forward from the tent.

“Let them go.” Macy quashed the terror and oh-shit thoughts racing through her brain. She couldn’t let the guards take Dmitri and Alonzo.

“Silence.” The slap left her addled for a moment. She reached up and wiped blood from her busted lip.

A soft chuckle swept into the room. A redhead sauntered in, clad in a red silk dress and gaudy red high-heeled boots. Talk about the cliché witch garb. Hadn’t she heard of The Witches Rights Act?

“Zivon.”

“Mistress Morva. I trust you are pleased your plan was a success.” Zivon edged closer, his hand wrapped in Macy’s hair and tugged until her face was upturned to him. “I shall claim this dragon witch as my reward, if that suits you.”

“Dragon witch, you say?”

Power thickened the air. Macy gasped under its weight, unable to breathe. Holy hexes this is exactly what she’d done to Alonzo and Dmitri. Shield weight was a serious bitch. Okay, she owed them an apology.

Assuming she survived.

The tension disappeared and she gasped in relief. Knots of terror formed inside her muscles. Pain coalesced within her veins. Crud, that freaking hurt. The bitch witch was going to have to die.

Figuring out what the hell was going on was the first priority though. Macy remained silent and listened as the woman shrugged her indifference.

“She must be a very weak bloodline. I barely sense any dragon power within her.”

That’s because your miserable toad freaking sucked it all out of me with some vile concoction before you got here.
The thought made her mind ask why. Why would Zivon go through the trouble?

Oh crud, she so didn’t want to be his indentured slave. She swallowed and regarded the man for a moment. He was handsome enough, but she wasn’t about to service his
anything
. Hell. Freaking. No.

 “Her dragon powers may be negligible, but that’s not why I want her,” he sneered. “Nights here in the dead lands tend to be dull. She’ll liven the place up for me. And my men.”

A nice, dull, rusted knife would sever that miserable toad’s whatnot right off.

Macy quelled her reaction and bit the inside of her cheek.

“I thought you’d prefer the less docile women, Zivon.” The woman cupped his balls. Macy tried not to puke. “You always did fight me.”

“You have what you required.”

“Yes, for now.” Her aura bled torment crimson. “I haven’t had a vampire prince before.”

“I trust he’ll be no different than his father,” Zivon commented dryly.

“I’ll see soon enough.”

Macy seethed. No one was going to touch Dmitri. Footsteps sounded across the bone floor as she made her way out. Zivon kept her muted with a forceful tug on her hair.

“Let me go,” Macy ordered through clenched teeth. “I swear I have an itching hex I’d love to try on you.”

“You’d no doubt do far worse, little dragon.” Amusement flickered on Zivon’s face.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

He chuckled and leaned in, his foul breath in her ear. “I didn’t hear you complain when Prince Dmitri called you that.”

“You are no vampire prince.”

Zivon leaned back and laughed. Oh the miserable toad so needed that itching hex followed by a good punch to the gonads and
then
the dull knife.

“What are you contemplating, little dragon?” A smirk spread on his face.

“Wondering how small the knife needed to be to saw your pride right off.”

The insult wasn’t lost on him. His eyes widened, then narrowed. “Careful what you say, Macy. Some things can’t be undone.”

“This can.” She swallowed, forcing courage to overcome the increased fear. “Let me go.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” He moved to the other side of the room and began grabbing potions from an apothecary cabinet. She watched with disinterest, knowing whatever horrid concoction he brewed no doubt meant trouble.

She moved to stand and he looked up. “Remain kneeling for now.”

Like hell.

She sat on the flimsy bed and glowered his direction.

“You are a stubborn one.” He chuckled as he ground an herb she didn’t recognize. It was a shame he was a miserable toad and she’d have to kill him. He clearly knew a lot about medicinal herbs. She’d learn a lot. “I see why Prince Dimitri is so drawn to you.”

Her chest ached at the thought of Dmitri. She didn’t want anyone speaking of him.
Goddesses, let him be okay. I’ll endure whatever I must, but please, please see that he lives. Let him be okay.
 

“My Toya was nothing like you. She was so meek at times I forgot she was near. It took years to get her to speak her mind, and even when she did it was with a soft voice and terrified heart.” He looked up, anguish in his eyes. “Her father was a brute of a man, a lot like the king.”

Macy suspected she didn’t want to hear whatever he said next. Potion bottles slammed against the table, bowls thrown against the wall. Nope, definitely not a story that should be told.

Strap in, it’s time for a ride into TMI land, no stops expected in I-don’t-give-a-broomstick.

“The cowards came while I was away. They spent days defiling her.” A bottle shattered against a skull in the corner. “She was lying in her own blood and excrement when I arrived. She’d hung on long enough to see me one last time.”

A cylinder shoved into a tonic bottle suffered the mage’s wrath. Creamy, purple liquid oozed into the small container. Macy’s stomach grumbled its concern. No worries. No way in freaking hell was she taking that.

He capped the bottle with something strangely resembling a pinky finger and shook as he walked. His voice rose in rage. “The king had no mercy with her so I knew I could have no mercy on him.”

Macy crawled backward on the small bed, wishing the leg bone walls would run the hell away so she could escape. She shook her head and wished to hell she could channel her powers.

Holy hexes if she ever got them back she’d never bitch again.

“I knew the day I buried my sweet Toya what I had to do.” The words were ground with razor blades. “The enemy of thy enemy is my friend.”

Forceful hands pried on her jaw. He tugged on the cap with his teeth. She kneed him hard between the legs. He cursed, glaring at the bottle’s contents now splashed on his pants.

“You are such an insolent little dragon.” He shoved her against the bed and began chanting.

The words were ancient, words she hadn’t heard since she was young. Her limbs felt heavy, movement became impossible.

Terror seized her lungs.

Crud.

She watched, frozen in place as he recreated the vile tonic.

“It would help if you’d be a little complacent.” He sighed. “I suppose it was to be expected. Your blood is far too strong to be a weak-minded witch. That spirit is what drew me to you. I’d hoped your mother was strong enough, but sadly we remember how that went.”

Macy’s heart twisted and squeezed. No. She didn’t want to hear this. Goddesses, make the madman stop.

The concoction oozed into another tiny jar. Another finger. Another rough shake.

He marched over. His voice lowered when his hand wrapped around her jaw. “I’m sorry she died, Macy. It was an unforeseen consequence.”

His hand kept her from screaming the words in her brain. Go. To. Hell.

“I hadn’t realized it was your father’s fire that made the spirit I needed. He was so strong.” Sadness reflected in his voice. Macy’s pulse paused in surprise. “I wish you’d known him. His brother, Dragos, is a lot like him.”

Oh. My. Freaking. Goddesses.

Dragos was her
uncle
? How the freaking crystals had that been kept a secret? She thought back to her childhood. Nope. No Dragos. He’d shown up shortly after her mother died, but never before.

Her father. Had she ever been told anything about him? Had she ever asked? In the witchly world it was far too common for a female witch of any semblance of power to find a warlock toy simply to get pregnant. She’d suspected that’s what her mother had done.

As if sensing her thoughts he released his grip on her jaw, but her body remained frozen.

“My father?” Macy forced the words out, but it required focus and severe concentration, which made her weary brain cells fire empty cannonballs through her mind, awakening minefields of pain.

“He died trying to heal my Toya.” Moisture appeared in the man’s eyes. “When I returned and found her there, he was beside her, his powers flowing into her, keeping her alive long enough for me to say goodbye.”

A haze of tears appeared, forcing Macy to focus on blinking.

“He and his bloodline were cursed that day because of his interference and I vowed to do everything within my power to end their torment. More importantly, I swore to keep you safe, should you ever come into contact with the witch who killed him for the sake of our king.”

“Morva.” The word tumbled from her lips.

He nodded. “She was by far weaker than him, but he refused to leave Toya’s side. Had he retreated he could’ve survived his injuries. It was the depletion of power afterward that killed him.”

Macy gulped the lodged emotion down into her churning stomach. Her heart pattered to life, hope restored. Goddesses, dare she imagine Zivon’s actions were an elaborate ruse to
help
Dmitri?

“So you see,
little dragon
…” he smirked with the emphasis he added on the endearment. She narrowed her eyes when his hands settled on her jaw and squeezed. “You are the first part of my blood debt. Drink.”

The liquid flowed down her throat of its own accord, as if magic offered a life of its own. She choked on the vile substance, swearing she’d rather drink battery acid. Fire engulfed her throat and spread behind the liquid.

She gasped for air and fell on the bed, her limbs now free.

Crud. This isn’t good
.

Macy writhed on the bed as molten slivers moved through her body, spreading and surging with vengeance. Power flickered and melded together into bands of fortified magic, stronger than before. Cleansed of the toxic curse, the magic spiraled until her entire body hummed with renewed energy.

She took a deep breath as the pain subsided and her mind absorbed what had happened. Zivon restored her powers. He’d saved her.

“Dmitri. You must save him.”

“I’m afraid you must do that, little dragon.” Zivon’s face was grim.

“Me?” She squeaked.

He nodded. “Only another dragon witch can defeat Morva.”

Okay. She could do this. Confidence spread within her limbs, strengthening her determination. She’d save Dmitri. Crud.

She loved him.

The realization thundered forward, forcing her heart to accept the startling truth. It defied logic. He was a freaking vampire prince. She was probably going to face execution for what she’d done.

But she loved him.

She would save him.

“What do I need to do?”

“You truly are a treasure. Your father would be proud.” Zivon grinned.

She smiled. “I hope to hear more of my father.”

“I fear I know very little. He was a visiting emissary on business for Imperial Station when he stumbled across Toya’s attack. I didn’t even know his name until that day.”

Macy nodded, pride surging in her. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Good luck, little dragon. You will need it.”

No doubt. A man walked into the room, his arms bigger than tree trunks and his chest wider than a semi. Yikes. She craned her neck up and up and finally surrendered to her short stature.

“This is Griffon. He will lead you to where Dmitri and Alonzo are being held, but it will take a couple of days to gain entry into the dungeons. The contact I have won’t be on rounds until then.”

Alonzo. Crud. She supposed he would need to be rescued as well. Perhaps if she did he’d dig the stick out of his butt where she was concerned.

One way or the other, Dmitri was hers. And the witch would die for touching him.

Dmitri tensed as fire flicked across his shredded back. Deep breaths added to the searing stab wounds up and down his ribs. He wouldn’t die, he’d simply wish he had.

He’d lost track of the days, but suspected at least two had passed since he’d been taken. Maybe three.

By now Macy would be tucked away, safe in the earthen realm, away from Dmitri’s father and the witch determined to break him. 

Feminine purrs echoed as the fire whip paused. The wielder trudged out of the room, no doubt exhausted from the one hour session. Beads of blood ran down Dmitri’s forehead, shoulders, stomach.

Morva prowled into view, her blood-red lips pursed in contemplation. “Are you ready to indenture yourself to me now, vampire?”

“Hell will freeze over before I bed you, witch.”

She cackled her delight. “You amuse me, Prince.”

“Glad to alleviate your boredom.” He suppressed a groan when her nails ran down his back.

“Tell me, Dmitri. Does it heat your blood to know Zivon is bedding the dragon witch?” She circled to his front. “I was told you are the one who brought her here.”

“I was her indenture.” He forced his breaths to remain shallow and his powers to wane.

Zivon would die if he harmed Macy.

“Bed me and she will be freed.”

“Is my father’s bed so dull you have to torture another man to find pleasure?”

The slap had the necessary consequence—it forced his focus on the pain rather than Macy. His hands fisted and he pulled himself up, grimacing as the silver dug into his wrists.

Morva unzipped his jeans and tugged them past his hips. He growled when she clenched his shaft and began pumping.

Hell would freeze over before she had any success.

The flame behind her flickered. He’d never see a fiery flicker and not think of Macy. The flame grew and surged forward. The fire burst into nuggets of power, all aimed at Morva.